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Recognition
Baby toddles around the corner, hand held tightly in Charlie's. "I'm sure he's here somewhere." Baby scans another room, frown darkening into a glower, and sets off again. A home office in a colour Charlie would paint— Baby pulls her to the next door, scowling harder. A nursery with furniture and toys Charlie would buy. Baby idles, tempted. "Only three left on this floor," Charlie urges. Baby throws a glare at the happy ducklings skipping around the wall and lets Charlie lead the way. A kid-friendly bathroom with a sensible shower/tub. "One sec?" asks Charlie. Shuffling of feet. Charlie tries the faucet. Water splashes into the sink. A proper house, then. Charlie still can't shake the 'cardboard facade' vibe. Baby tugs on Charlie's pants. "Right. Two more." The next door opens into a master bedroom that smells like home. Charlie closes it quickly. There's a second staircase at the end of the hall; sunlight streams through huge windows so the last room has no natural light, or, as Charlie's heart settles, alternative escape routes for the two armoured people inside. Logan, sprawled in a beanbag, flops an arm (probably in greeting). Baby becomes a scrunched, tense, ticking tantrum of a child, and stomps— "Hey, Firefly," croaks Jackson. Baby turns back to the study. "Worried we wouldn't find you?" says Charlie. Jackson rubs the back of his neck—or tries, at any rate. "We were just about to turn the house upside-down," adds Charlie, absently combing Baby's curls. Jackson glances at his clunky boots and the arch of off-texture area rug. "Yea, been pacing some." "You've actually worn a track in the carpet," commends Charlie, moving to hug him— Baby tugs at her pant leg. Charlie stops short. "What's up, bean?" Baby tries pulling Charlie from the room. Jackson goes down on one knee. "Hey, Baby, it's me, your dad." Baby shrinks against Charlie's leg. Jackson's eyes prick. "Baby—" Baby smothers a scream against Charlie's pants. Charlie caresses Baby's head, eases to the floor. "Dad's just wearing a funny hat, bean. It's okay." A frantic head shake, clutching for the back of Charlie's shirt. Jackson pulls off the helmet, sets it on the floor beside him. "It's gone, Baby. Just me now." Baby peeks around Charlie's shoulder. Jackson smiles, opens his arms. "Just your dad." Baby reluctantly releases Charlie. "My voice is still mine. Promise." Charlie lifts her arm as Baby squeezes against her side. "And I'm still yours." Baby folds two chubby hands on Jackson's leg, searches his face. "I didn't mean to scare you." Satisfied that, in fact, this big, clunky thing is the paternal unit, Baby climbs onto Jackson's knee. "See, Monkey?" Presses a kiss to Baby's forehead. "Only a silly costume I have to wear sometimes. Still your dad in here." Baby stretches out a hand, pats the armor's chest plate. Book saunters in, pursued by a flustered stylist, says, "You look like a robot." Jackson scoops Baby onto his shoulders and grins at Book. "Better a robot than a Storm Trooper like the Americans do." Category:Ficlet Category:Work in Progress Category:Baby Category:Charlie Category:Jackson Category:Jackson is a dad Category:Charlie is a mum Category:Descriptions of Baby Category:Logan Category:Book Category:Baby (description) Category:Baby (ficlet) Category:Child Language Category:Charlie (ficlet) Category:Jackson (ficlet) Category:Logan (ficlet) Category:Book (ficlet) Category:Drivesuits Category:Picture Perfect arc